Spirit Week

It’s homecoming week at Wheaton Academy, with a different theme for each day. This past Saturday we took Jane on her first excursion to St. Vincent Du Paul’s (my all-time favorite thrift store) to find clothes for the week. I got a bright yellow t-shirt with “I HEART Movies” on the front for Color Day (faculty got yellow) and a vest/pant combo for 70s Day, forgetting that, oops, I don’t teach on Thursdays!

So yesterday morning (Monday: color day) I sported the glaring t-shirt, a pair of big neon-yellow earrings borrowed from Emily, and a yellow African scarf around my neck. Still, I was nowhere near the most outlandishly dressed teacher (one of the math teachers wore a banana suit; another wore a yellow tiger costume), and I almost forgot that I wasn’t dressed in normal teaching clothes.

Which is why, I guess, that when I left school after fourth period and went to a meeting with the director of PJ’s preschool, I completely forgot what I looked like. We chatted for a few minutes before I realized. “Oh, I’m so sorry!” I said, my hand flying to the garish hoops at my ears, “It’s spirit days at school, and I forgot I had all this stuff on.”

She waved it off. “It’s no big deal.”

Sure, I thought. Now she thinks I’m a freak.

But then she continued. “You should have been here last Friday. It was pajama day!”

You gotta’ love preschool.

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Today, Tuesday, was clash day, a spirit week favorite. My first time to “clash” was years ago. I was teaching middle school, just out of college, and afraid to look truly unprofessional. So I dressed for this day a little too conservatively, and I learned: when people tilt their heads to the side when they look at you, trying to decide if you really MEANT to clash or not, you haven’t gotten it.

So today, I clashed–big time! You can see the picture for proof. But when Jake walked into the bathroom this morning, he said, “Looking good, Mom,” and gave me a thumbs-up–and he was completely serious. (If we didn’t already know he is color blind, we would have figured it out today.)

A few minutes later I went to Maddie’s room to wake her. She rubbed sleep from her eyes and then actually saw me. She woke up in a hurry, her eyes wide, wide, wide. “Mom?!”

“It’s okay. It’s clash day at school,” I told her.

“Phew!”

They ARE twins, right?

Oh, and this day I DID remember to change before I went to pick PJ up from school!

Jake and Marriage

Jake’s been thinking about marriage lately—his own. A couple of weeks ago he seemed pensive when I picked him up from school. “What’s wrong, dude?” I asked.

“Dakota broke up with me,” he sighed. “She still likes me, but she doesn’t love me anymore.”

Em was pragmatic (a very different attitude than her approach to her own “love life”). “Well, it’s not like you were going to marry her.”

Jake protested. “I might. I’ve got to start looking now, you know, start preparing.”

Then, over the weekend, Jake reminded us of his children’s names (we’ve had some of this conversation before). “My first boy is going to be named ‘Tucker,’” he said. “Tucker Thomas—the Thomas is for you and me, Dad.”

“What?” Dave asked. “Doesn’t your wife get a say?”

Jake’s face crinkled up like we were missing something obvious. “Not with the boys’ names, Dad. She gets to name the girls.”

“What if you only have boys?” I asked.

He had to think about that one. “Then I guess she gets to name the second boy.”

He didn’t seem too happy about it.